


Something Worth Living For

by Litsetaure



Series: Torchwood Moments [8]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Litsetaure/pseuds/Litsetaure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the scene with Ianto and Owen in 2.08, 'A Day in the Death' and what Ianto was thinking of when he asked Owen 'Are you really going to let this beat you' among other things. Hints of Jack/Ianto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Worth Living For

**Something Worth Living For**

"Oh come on," snorted Owen. "Even Tosh had more of a life than you used to; and now you're always out on missions, you're shagging Jack and I'm stuck here making the coffee."

Ianto's initial urge to make some kind of retort about how Owen now knew what it was like to be the 'office tea-boy' for a while was overwhelmed by his desire to set him right.

"It's not like that," he said quickly, "me and Jack."

To his dismay, however, he almost sounded as though he was trying to convince someone of that, which was not what he had intended to do. He fidgeted in his pocket and felt a rush of comfort when his fingers touched Jack's handkerchief.

"Yeah, yeah; you and Jack," retorted Owen, clearly not believing it. But he quickly went on, "Gwen's getting married, Martha's got her bloke; God, even Tosh had Tommy – this is really  _shit_!" The last words were almost a snarl as he threw down the towel in disgust.

Ianto clenched his fingers around Jack's handkerchief, feeling himself bristle slightly. Yes, being dead wasn't fun and neither was being stuck inside – and he knew more about the latter than he was willing to reveal. But there were worse things that could happen.

Eighteen months ago, that would have meant the pain he had felt when he lost Lisa. That still hurt from time to time, but it wasn't what he was thinking about at the moment. Instead, his thoughts were on the very reason why he knew that what he had with Jack could not just be called 'shagging', as Owen had so bluntly put it.

He remembered how, one night after the others had gone home, he had decided to tidy Jack's office a little before he left, only to find the other man sitting hunched in his chair, his hands clasped together and his face contorted in what looked like agonising sorrow. He had looked up at the sound from the doorway and Ianto had been horrified by the deadened, haunted look in his eyes, so different from the cheerful and flirtatious sparkle that had been there so often since he had come back.

But what had frightened the young Welshman even more had been when Jack had suddenly slumped over his desk, cursing furiously as he burst into tears. Ianto had seen him cry once before – though Jack didn't know it – after he had let Jasmine Pierce go with the faeries, but this time it had been so different. Then, he had been angry and upset over what had happened to Estelle and the reaction of his team. This time, however, he had been crying tears of fear. There was nothing else you could call it. Jack had been nothing short of absolutely terrified.

Ianto had remembered, quite suddenly, exactly how Jack had taken care of him after the disastrous trip to the Brecon Beacons, which had nearly ended with him getting eaten alive. Jack had comforted him, not just by taking him home and taking physical care of him, but also by just being there. He had sat with him, even stayed with him throughout the night, but he hadn't tried to push him into talking or anything like that.

He had said that night that he just wanted Ianto to feel better and Ianto had told him that he would feel better; he just needed a little time. And he had done that; rather than trying to press him, he had simply sat beside him, giving him space and time to think, but showing that he was there for him.

So, when Ianto had seen Jack break down like that, he hadn't said a word. Instead, he had simply moved to Jack's side and knelt down beside him. He didn't say anything and he didn't try to touch him; he just sat and waited. Jack had given him time and now he was going to do the same for him.

The evening after the incident where they had found the abused alien in the warehouse – the same incident that had nearly lost them Gwen – Ianto had appeared in Jack's office once again to find the older man frantically trying to clean it. The only time when that ever happened was when Jack was close to a meltdown, but was trying to stave it off for the sake of his team. Ianto had gone up to him cautiously, still not touching him, just passing him a pile of papers to put away; just helping him.

He had expected Jack to take them and then turn away, but he didn't. Instead, he had moved to grasp them, but instead had collapsed in his arms, crying those same tears of fear that he had before, but with a heavy dose of guilt as well.

That had been when he had opened up,  _really_  opened up, about what had happened during the time he had been away and how he had been held captive by the Master; chained up, killed repeatedly and…tortured, just like the alien had been that day.

Ianto had known that Jack hadn't intended to reveal everything, but once he'd started, he hadn't been able to stop – he later said that he hadn't wanted to stop. And, no matter how horrible what he heard was, no matter how sick it made him feel, Ianto had never interrupted him; he just sat beside him and let him get it all out, knowing he would feel better for it later.

Afterwards, Jack had kissed him softly and thanked him for listening and for being there. He had known, he said, that he needed to talk, but the time hadn't been right for it before and he wanted to talk to someone who would listen and not ask questions.

The pain in his face had been heartbreaking. Ianto had known that it wasn't a time for one of his witty one-liners to try and cheer him up; the man needed comfort. So, he had simply taken his hand and kissed his forehead. They had stayed in that position all night and well into the early hours of the morning.

And yet, he had never been happier. Right there, he knew that Jack trusted him and that he  _needed_ him. They understood each other now, in a way that they hadn't done before. Back then, Ianto had been the one hurting and Jack had been the one to comfort him.

"We've all gone through shit," he said quietly, barely looking at Owen as he dragged himself back to the present. "Seeing you dissect alien corpses, saving so many lives…" he gave the man a rather hard look. "You really going to let this beat you?"

It wasn't much, but it was the best comfort he could offer. Owen wasn't going to open up like Jack had done and it would have been wrong to try and force him to. Owen wasn't Jack and Ianto wasn't going to treat him like he was.

But all the same, as he curled up in Jack's arms, he couldn't help but think that he had unintentionally given Owen one of the best things he could ask for.

He had reminded him that, even in death, there was always something worth living for.


End file.
